Where the Streets Have No Names
by xSucksToYourAss-marx
Summary: I just remember staring at Tweek for what seemed like hours. This boy that was standing infront of me-hunched and terrified-was not the boy that I left four years ago. What happened to you, Tweek? Creek. May become M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Oh no, not another fanfiction! I actually had a dream about this one and had to write it down because it was eating my brain. **

***Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to South Park or the characters.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

I just remember staring at Tweek for what seemed like hours, though I'm sure it was only a few minutes. It had been four years…_four years. _How the hell did you get this bad Tweek? What happened to you while I was gone? _Why _did this happen to you? Questions and guilt infected my brain like locusts to a field of crops. The blonde boy that was standing—hunched and terrified—in front of me, was not the boy I left four years ago.

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><p><em><strong>Four Years Earlier: Eighth Grade <strong>_

It was my last day in South Park Middle School. My dad's job had been transferred just outside of Denver; he always complained that commuting was hell, especially on the seasonal snowy roads. And thus, our dull blue house was put on the market. No one actually bought it yet, but that didn't stop us from packing our shit and getting the hell out. My mother was ecstatic to finally get out of South Park, while my sister bitched that she would never forgive our family for making her "abandon" her friends. Personally, I was indifferent, which was to be expected. I mean, I'd miss Clyde and Token, but they'd get over it. I didn't have a problem in the world when it came to leaving this shit town. No one would really miss me. Clyde might for a bit, but after a good greasy meal he'd be fine. At least…I thought no one would miss me, until the very end of the day.

I was shoving everything I possibly could from my locker into my backpack. The reason I had enough clothes in there to put together two outfits still eludes me today. It also made fitting crap into my backpack that much more difficult. I ended up throwing everything away to save my spine from snapping on the way home. Finally, the items in my locker dwindled to a few useless knickknacks that I tried to find space for in my exploding pack. I was in the middle of stuffing a polished rock in the front pocket when I heard a series of small squeaks and squeals to my right. I only knew one person that could make such noises.

"Sup Tweek?" I said, without looking up from my pervious task. The jittery boy's locker was right next to mine, because our last names were close in spelling. Because of this, Tweek and I were also placed in the same homerooms all throughout middle school. We've always been acquaintances but nothing special. If I caught sight of Tweek in the cafeteria I'd wave him over to sit at our table. I liked him, he was cool, and his quirks amused me to no end. We were lab partners in science, and often paired together in math because we both did well in that subject. The strange thing was though, while I hung out with other people, I never saw Tweek with anyone else. I don't like to think of myself as the only guy in the school who talked to him. So, I simply brushed off the potential issue, like I usually did with things that made me uncomfortable.

"Ngh—hi Craig." Tweek said politely while I growled in frustration. This stupid rock wasn't going to fit. I'd just throw it out before I left school. I finally straightened and glanced over at the blonde. Tweek's large green eyes were glued to my exploding backpack. "Are you moving lockers?" He asked curiously.

I stared at the vibrating teen blankly. Did I really forget to tell him I was moving? I sighed and slammed the metal door shut, reveling in the hollow sound that echoed back.

"No, I'm actually moving to Denver. Today was my last day." I can remember the look in those eyes better than anything else that happened that day. His gaze shifted from my face to my backpack in quick flitting movements. The blonde's subtle tremors became nervous quakes and his pupils glued to the floor.

"W-What? Why didn't you tell me?" He asked quietly, looking as if the dirty floor was suddenly very interesting.

"I didn't think it would matter." I shrugged honestly.

"It—ngh—matters!" The caffeinated boy's head shot up to look at me so quickly that I flinched. Swiftly his hands dug themselves into his messy blonde locks. "Oh God, you're leaving…I'm not ready man. I didn't even say goodbye!"

"Jesus Tweek I'm not gone yet." I snickered. "Now's your chance."

"Gah—_pressure_…" I smirked at the familiar term. Illuminating irises dug into my blue eyes. They were shining more than usual…Oh God…Tweek wasn't going to cry was he? I couldn't stand to see the little guy cry. "I'm going to miss you," he whispered hoarsely, "you're the only—ngh-friend I've ever had…"

Shit.

I wasn't expecting that. The skin on my face began to burn, and I covered the embarrassing blush with a gloved hand while looking discretely to the side. "I…uh…" I faked a cough and pounded my chest. "...hey, I'll miss you too." I looked down at the small polished rock still in my hand. I shoved it in Tweek's face. The blonde flinched; startled.

"Gah—what's that?" Tweek squealed.

"It's a present—"

"Jesus! I didn't get you anything!"

"Shut up. It's a gift to remember me by." I shrugged simply. Tweek glanced at me nervously before hesitantly sending onward a shaky hand, palm up. I dropped the pebble into his hand and smiled. "Bye Tweek." I ruffled his crazy hair before turning around to exit the school.

"Bye Craig…"

That was the last time I heard Tweek Tweak speak.

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><p><em><strong>Four Years Later: Senior year <strong>_

I stood in front of a familiar blue house and sighed, glancing at the dark windows and over grown front lawn. No one actually ended up buying our house, and the extra mortgage plus Ruby threatening to run away, became too much pressure for my mother to handle. Denver was cool, I actually really liked it. We lived in a nice apartment that had an assortment of shops and shit to do around it. I'd made some new friends, and even was in a nice relationship for a while. Yeah, life was good, but I learned early on in life that good things never last.

Ruby skipped along in front of me, dragging a large suitcase behind her.

"Isn't this great Craig?" She mused, "We get to see all of our old friends again!" I frowned and scratched the back of my head through my blue chullo hat.

"Yeah…super…" I muttered and opened the front door.

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><p>One week later, I was sitting on the front porch waiting for Token and Clyde to pick me up. I was officially enrolled in Park High School. Apparently after middle school they took all of the communities of Park County and shoved all the kids into one learning institution. That's what Clyde told me anyway. When he found out I was back in town he'd screamed so loud into the phone receiver I swore I went deaf for a minute. Clyde and I stayed in contact over the years through Facebook. In fact, it's like I never left, all my previous friends and I would occasionally take up an electronic conversation; funny how the world is so small now.<p>

A sleek black Mercedes halted across the street. I whistled lowly in awe of the tiny vehicle. It only had two doors, which meant I'd have to haul my ass into the backseat. Clyde popped out of the polished beauty and waved me over. He was wearing a red COWS lettermen jacket. I smirked and shook my head; so predictable.

Clyde clapped me on the shoulder before wrenching the leather seat forward. Token glanced back at me and a wide grin set itself on his flawless face. "Still wearing your hat Craig?" He snickered.

"What can I say, it has high sentimental value." I shrugged, setting my back pack onto the seat next to me. Clyde hopped into the car and slammed the door shut, warranting a quick glare from Token.

"Man, be gentle, I don't want to pay for any more repairs on this baby because of you." The rich boy warned.

"Yeah yeah…" Clyde waved his hand in some sort of faggy motion. "Craig, we've got so much shit to catch up on. How was life for you in the city? Finally get your cherry popped?" I rolled me eyes.

"God damn Clyde you are such an idiot." I retorted playfully. "And of course I have, jealous?" The brunet's face turned red and he pouted.

"No." He stuck his tongue out at me through the rear view mirror.

"Clyde's still a virgin." Token clarified bluntly.

"Hey man! I'm waiting for the right girl."

"Right," I scoffed, "looks like you should lay off the tacos bro." The reaction Clyde gave me was quite amusing and I smiled. I guess I did miss South Park a little more than I let on.

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><p>I was welcomed back to high school as if I'd never left. The only weird thing was that it was considerably bigger than I thought it would be, and I didn't know the majority of kids in our grade. But, the kids I did know would smile at me in the hallway and give me the occasional fist bump, asking how life was "in the big city". I also got considerably more attention from girls, which wasn't all that surprising. Even I have to admit I grew into a damn good looking teenager. However, sometimes the attention evolved into irritating giggles, so I resorted in flipping off a lot of females.<p>

English ended and I was trying to find my Advance Calc class. Supposedly it was on the other side of the school. I knew I was in the wrong place because the hallways were nearly empty save for the messy artwork that was plastered onto the white walls. Glancing inside the rooms, I learned that I was on the special ed part of school. Voices and a clump of students at the end of the hallway attracted me like a moth to a lamp. There was a cluster of kids surrounding two others in the middle. I walked over curiously.

"Hey it's Twitch!" Someone shouted.

"Where's your coffee Twitch?"

"Try and get 'im to speak!"

I frowned as I approached the mass of adolescent bodies. I was never a fan of bullying, but never did anything to stop it. That would require unnecessary action which would mess up my sacred daily routine. Plus, I needed to know how the fuck I was supposed to get to the Math Wing.

A flash of wild blonde hair caught my attention, and I found myself pushing through other kids so I could get a closer look at the two individuals in the middle. What I saw haunted and surprised me. I'd completely forgotten this jittery boy existed, and this was not the way that I wanted to remember.

Tweek Tweak was hunched over himself against the wall, thin hands covering his head in a weak attempt of protection. God, the kid was small…so fucking small. He looked almost exactly the same as he did in eighth grade, give or take a few inches. He wore a familiar green polo shirt with a ruffled collar underneath a brown sweater vest. His large green eyes were snapped shut in fear…but the strangest thing was that he didn't utter a sound. Not even one of his odd noises that would always escape his lips. He was silent.

The faceless jock that was beating on the poor teen sneered and lost interest. I must've gotten there toward the end of this whole "event". Students hesitantly began to disperse after the beefed up bastard deemed it time to get back to class. However I remained, frozen. Tweek still didn't open his eyes, but my gaze was elsewhere. His left arm was covered in black ink. Some of it was smudged and worn away, and some of it looked brand new, like he wrote on his arm last period. I swallowed harshly and finally gathered up the courage to speak.

"Hey Tweek…" I murmured awkwardly. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him, but the second I spoke, the blonde's eyes shot open and a cruel convulsion took his body. He panicked for a moment before allowing his green pupils to rest on my form. I still hadn't heard a single noise emit from the small boy. He blinked multiple times before shakily standing up. I stayed glued to my spot, unable to move. Awkwardly, I scratched the back of my head, "You remember me?"

Tweek brought up his right hand, palm facing me, like he was about to give a scouts honor. There was a single word crudely written on his palm so roughly that it looked like it was ground into his delicate skin like a cheap tattoo.

_YES _

Shock froze my limbs into place at my sides. I couldn't bring myself to look away from the horribly written word. It held me in some kind spell until Tweek slowly began to bring his hand back to his side. The small boy twitched uneasily.

"A-are you—uh—okay?" My voice cracked, and I watched as Tweek wavered before lifting up his left arm, the arm that had all of the scribbling on it.

_NO _

It was written just as crudely on his left palm as the one on his right. My brain was silent, but at the same time it was racing. This wasn't the Tweek that I remembered. The Tweek from middle school would be spewing out that I must be a clone. He would have said something, _anything_, by now. If not that he'd at least be sobbing his eyes out. I preferred that over whatever the hell this was. As if reading my mind, Tweek took a step forward and pointed to one of the many phrases that lined his pale arm. It was considerably faded and I had to squint to make it out.

_I don't talk anymore. _

I wanted to ask him _why_. I wanted to uncharacteristically comfort him. Tweek was a good kid, from what I remembered. He'd occasionally fall prey to bullies, but nothing that happened would ever scar him to the point of…silence.

The blonde shuffled awkwardly before nodding his head in the direction of a nearby classroom. I imagined him shakily saying goodbye before scooting off and disappearing. I remember standing there, long after Tweek had left and the last warning bell rung. There was only one question that echoed and bounced off of the inside of my skull until it hurt.

What happened to Tweek in the past four years that caused him to lose his voice, and where did the jittery boy I used to know go?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to MetrionZinthos and Scarlettshazam to reviewing on my first chapter! Those reviews were so nice to read and I took every single word into consideration. Another massive thank you to the ton of people who added this story to their Alert and Favorite lists! It means alot! **

***Disclaimer: I don't own South Park**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two <strong>

_YES _

_ NO _

_ I don't talk anymore. _

I couldn't focus, and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't know why my run in with Tweek this morning had such a great impact on me. After all, I barely spoke to him back in middle school…hell I forgot he'd even existed until a few hours ago. Then why, _why_, was his pathetic image engraved into the back of my eyelids? His thin arms flashed across my mind's eye, scribbled phrases written sloppily over pale skin. And those two simple words pushed into his palms…I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed two fingers against my temples. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm Craig Tucker for God's sake; I don't give a shit about anyone.

The ending tone snapped me out of my reverie and I quickly shoved my books into my backpack. With the conclusion of fifth hour came lunch. I slung my pack over my shoulder lazily and sauntered out of the classroom. Only when I was retrieving a bagged meal from my locker did I realize that I haven't paid attention to any of my previous classes. Frowning, I tried to recall what we learned in Calc or English…but nothing came to mind.

_I don't talk any more. _

My locker door slammed shut with such force it turned heads. I ignored most of the curious stares and followed the crowd to what I assumed was the cafeteria. It kind of sucked that Park High didn't have an open campus lunch. The staff wouldn't even allow the kids to sit anywhere else in the school except the lunch room. And the last thing I wanted was to eat in a room full of sweaty teenagers.

I learned that the cafeteria was actually a separate building that was added onto the school around ten years ago. Apparently the other one wasn't big enough since all four grades have the same lunch period. Each plastic round table was bursting with student life. And if it wasn't for a particular waving boy clad in red, I probably would have been destined to search the cafeteria for the next century (because it totally would have taken me that long).

When I reached the designated table I let out a low groan of displeasure. I really shouldn't have been surprised at the boys sharing my future eating area; Clyde, Token, Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Butters Stotch, Eric Cartman, Kenny McCormick, and even Kevin fucking Stoley. I knew Clyde and Token began hanging out with Stan's "gang" from when I'd partake in the occasional Facebook stalk, but I didn't know they'd be lunch buddy status. I rolled my eyes and stole a plastic chair from a nearby table. _Some things never change, _I thought bitterly, squishing myself between Clyde and Token.

"Well hi Craig!" Butters chirped immediately. He looked fairly similar to the last time I saw him four years ago. Butters was sitting, but even sitting down I could see that he would be relatively shorter than most of us. His face lost some of the baby fat it retained all through out middle school, and his fluffy blonde hair was sloppily styled into some kind of fohawk (or what I assumed was an attempt of a fohawk). "It's sure been a while! You look swell!"

"Yeah Craig, you're not as scrawny as you used to be." Stan commented while shoving a piece of broccoli into his mouth. His comment was granted with a quick flip of the finger. Stan actually changed quite a bit compared to the smaller blonde sitting at his side. I would actually be surprised the large bulky jock across from me was the same awkward kid I left in eighth grade if it weren't for the fact that we've exchanged a few messages every now and then. I could also say the same for Kyle, who was now sporting a pair of black glasses. His red hair was cut short and drenched in a shit ton of product to keep the curls under control.

"So Craig," Kenny drawled while stealing an apple from Token's lunch. He still wore that damn parka that seemed to grow along with him like skin. "How come you never told us where you lived? We would have loved to visit you every once and a while."

"Yeah," Clyde piped up, "every time I asked, you'd never respond!"

"Maybe I didn't want you ass-holes fucking with my life anymore." I shrugged honestly. After all, isn't the point of moving to leave your past behind you? Then again, it seemed that my past had caught up with me pretty fast.

"Anyway," Kenny smiled, "tell us how the city was. It must have been a lot more exciting than anything around here."

And that's how the majority of my lunch period was spent. I told the guys about the bitchin' house parties, the girls, the drugs; basically anything they wanted to hear. But honestly, I hadn't even indulged on most of the shit I was talking about. I went to about three parties, and in my opinion they were lame unless I got completely hammered. I only had one girlfriend, and she was a total jock, complete with short hair and sports jerseys. And, the only drug I ever used was weed, which is as low-key as it gets. When you're as uninteresting and dry as me, life in the city gets pretty old. Hell, life anywhere gets pretty old…but I wasn't about to tell them that.

"Jesus Craig," Token chuckled, "it must suck to have to come back here." He took a sip of Diet Coke.

"Yeah," Clyde paused as if he was mulling something over in that hollow head of his, "hey! This weekend, why don't we have a Welcome Back party?"

"Good idea Clyde!" Butters exclaimed gleefully.

"We could have it at Token's." Cartman (who was still fat as fuck) piped in.

"Why my house?"

"Because Token," Cartman huffed, "you're loaded, and your house is in the middle of nowhere, we won't have to worry about neighbors." He spoke as if he was speaking to a toddler, which probably pissed Token off. Jesus, did I mention that everything in South Park was exactly the same?

_Not everything…_

And then I remembered what happened this morning.

_I don't talk anymore. _

"Hey guys," I said suddenly, catching the table's attention. "Do you know what's up with Tweek?" The only immediate responses I received were blank stares. Then, Kevin finally spoke, adding to the conversation for the first time.

"Who's Tweek?" He asked. I flipped him off. Who the hell doesn't know who Tweek is?

"Hmm…Tweek…" Clyde contemplated while rubbing his chin quizzically, "…he's that blonde kid who twitches a lot right?"

"I thought he moved." Token shrugged.

"No, he just spends all his time in the Special Ed part of school." Kyle murmured unsurely, looking at Stan, who nodded in agreement.

"Well gee; I haven't seen Tweek in ages." Butters added uselessly.

"Man, Craig's talking about Twitch." Cartman bellowed with a snicker, and the group gave a collective "oh"; except Kenny, who was staring down at his stolen apple.

My first reaction was to flip off the entire table for their stupidity. Then, I proceeded to glare at Cartman. "Don't call him Twitch, you fat fuck." I growled while taking a bite of my sandwich.

"B-but Craig," Butters muttered, nervously tapping his knuckles together, "everyone calls him that…" I was silent as the guys shifted awkwardly in their seats.

"Then stop." I retorted simply, granting each person a glare. Honestly, I didn't know how to react to the previous conversation. I guess more changed in high school than I believed.

A chair squealing against the tiled cafeteria floor brought my attention away from the subject at hand. Kenny abruptly stood up and took a large bite out of his apple. He didn't say a word as he walked away. I watched the back of Kenny's orange-clad form until it was engulfed by the sea of students sitting around us.

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><p>The rest of the school day passed just as I expected it to: nice and boring. I hitched a ride with Token and Clyde on the way home. Clyde was going off on the idea that we <em>had <em>to have a Welcome Back party on Saturday. Token even reluctantly said we'd have it at his house. I was quiet the entire ride home until we pulled up to my drive way, where I muttered a quick thank you.

I was kind of in a pissy mood ever since lunch ended. I guess the whole Tweek thing got to me, which was strange…usually I didn't let _anything_ get to me (let alone _anyone_). My brain told me it was because Tweek was one of the few people that didn't annoy the fuck out of me back in middle school, so I didn't think it was fair for the twitchy blonde to be made fun of. But, was that alone the reason he forced himself into silence?

I unlocked the front door and was greeted with a dark empty house; nothing unusual. I kicked off my shoes and dumped my backpack unceremoniously onto the floor.

"I'm home." I called out, just in case Ruby was here. I wasn't answered.

The first thing I usually do when returning home from school is raid the fridge for anything edible. It's been this way ever since I can remember. So, I sauntered into the kitchen and ripped open the large outdated refrigerator. I don't know why I expected to see it gorged with food, considering we'd only moved back into this house a little over a week ago, so the fact that I slammed it shut and flipped it off might seem extreme. But hey, I was hungry.

In my fit of giving an inanimate object the bird, I noticed a note stuck onto the freezer with a magnet. Up close, I could tell that it was my mom's handwriting.

_No food in the house. If you're hungry go out and find something. Money's on the table._

Ugh, so typical. At least at our apartment I could go out and actually find a restaurant. I don't know what my mom expected me to find in South Park. The only place this town had was Harbuck's and I really didn't feel like going there. However, my stomach convinced me that café food was better than nothing, so I took the twenty sitting on the dining room table and left the house.

I was shoving the money into my sweatshirt pocket when something across the street caught my attention. I glanced up and saw a familiar shock of fair hair exploding in all different directions. Before I really thought about what I was doing, I called out, "Tweek!" The boy flinched and stopped in his tracks, turning his pale body to face me. Unlike earlier today, now he was wearing a dark green sweater that was about three sizes too big for his skinny figure. The sleeves covered his hands, which were clutching a large cup of coffee to his chest. There was a faded brown messenger bag slung across the blonde's shoulder. I motioned for him to cross the street.

Tweek hesitantly glanced left and right before shuffling to the sidewalk where I stood. I was desperately hoping for him to give me a shaky hello or a shriek. The silence that seemed to slap me in the face was extremely disappointing.

"Er…Hi." I said awkwardly, keeping my hands stuffed in my pockets.

Tweek nodded at me in a soundless greeting.

"Um…how are you?" My lack of conversational skill was completely evident as I shuffled on the sidewalk. Tweek didn't seem to mind much as he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing the lines of black ink that marred his pale flesh. He seemed to search his forearm for a minute before finally settling on a particular phrase. He shyly held his arm out to me and pointed to the response.

_Good. _

I couldn't help the microscopic smile that crawled onto my lips. "Cool. It's kind of cold, want to come inside?" I wanted to slap myself for saying that. First of all, with my awkward nature…it sounded creepier than intended. Second of all, most of the furniture in my house was packed away in large cardboard boxes. It didn't really matter though, because Tweek held up his left palm in a flash.

_ NO_

I frowned, but hid the disappointed feeling in the pit of my stomach like a pro. I always was good at keeping an indifferent stare. But, I didn't have very good control over my words.

"Why not?" I asked stupidly. Tweek flinched and stuffed his cup of coffee into the side pocket on his messenger bag. He then proceeded to open the ratty thing and fish through its many contents. I watched the blonde curiously as he brought out a pen and a small notebook. At the speed of light he flipped it open to a clean page and scribbled on the lined paper:

_I don't know if you're the real Craig. _

I didn't bother stopping the laughter that bubbled out of my throat. _This _was more like the Tweek I knew in eighth grade. A paranoid little kid that chugged too much coffee and couldn't tell that his theories were completely illogical.

"Try me." I chuckled, and was rewarded with a tiny smile in return. Tweek quickly scratched some more letters in his notebook.

_What happened in science class that got us both detention? _

I had to think for a minute before answering. We were lab partners in middle school, and almost failed out of science because of that. Tweek would be too terrified to touch anything, and I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. So, most of our "experiments" ended in failures. But there was one in particular…

"When we were dissecting a frog, I cut it in the wrong place and you freaked out. The teacher came over and told you to do it since you knew how…" I paused searching for what happened next, "…oh yeah, and then when you saw that there were a bunch of eggs on the inside, you thought we had an alien frog, and then splat the eggs all over the teacher's face. I laughed like hell and then we got detention for it." Good times.

Tweek's eyes lit up at the memory, but he didn't look completely convinced. He scribbled another note and dug into his bag again once he was finished. He held out his hand in a closed fist, then showed me the message.

_What's this from? _

He slowly opened his hand and revealed a small polished rock. I remembered it almost immediately.

"I gave that to you as a present…to remember me." I said quietly. Tweek stared down at the small stone before putting his notebook back into his pack. He held up his right hand.

_YES _

Before I could say anything, a petite brunette woman came running across the street. She had on a kitchen apron over a modest dress. Her hair was chin length, and her features vaguely represented the boy's in front of me.

"Tweek," she murmured, out of breath, "oh there you are! I was so worried; you know not to run off like that without asking!" She scolded, fixing a few strands of Tweek's flyaway hair.

I coughed into my hand uncomfortably, and she turned to face me; surprised.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she apologized, "my boy wasn't bothering you was he? You must excuse him; he's not like most kids his age." Tweek glared at his mother heatedly, and his face flushed in embarrassment.

"No…it's fine." I mumbled, playing with the flaps of my chullo. "We're friends."

At this, Tweek and his mom both perked up. A smiled flashed across Mrs. Tweak's face and she grabbed her son's head, pulling it into her breast. Tweek's cheek's lit up bright red as he shoved her away irritably.

"Oh my, isn't this wonderful? My Tweek has a friend!" She bounced up and down excitedly. "What's your name young man?"

"Craig Tucker…"

"Mr. Tucker, would you like to come to our home this Saturday?" She asked. Tweek shook his head at his mother and held his left hand to her desperately, flashing the crudely written _NO _in her face. She waved it away and waited for my answer.

"Um…" I rubbed the back of my neck, "sure."

"Yay! Come on Tweek, we must tell your father the good news!" She clung to her son's arm and dragged him toward the street. "Goodbye Mr. Tucker, we look forward to having you this weekend!" While she dragged her son away Tweek caught my eye, flashing me a look that could only mean one thing:

_Sorry. _

I smiled to reassure him that it was okay. For the second time that day I found myself glued to one spot until Tweek and his mother were out of site. Except this time, there was a small smile gracing my lips.

I turned around and walked back into my house. Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay, another chapter! I didn't look this over so excuse any typoes D: Thanks again to everyone who added this to their allert and reviewed! So, those of you who favorited this, please review if you want...I want to know what you think ^^**

***Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

The best feeling in the fucking world is turning on a hairdryer—full blast—then sticking it up your shirt. Surprisingly, I do this a lot…it's a quirk I guess; which is weird, considering I don't really have many quirks. When I was in middle school I'd do it every morning when I woke up for school, because South Park is always so cold and it'd warm me up. I stopped doing it on a daily basis when Ruby walked into the bathroom and took a picture.

However, I still do it occasionally when I'm bored and no one is in the house: like right now. I was sprawled out on my bed, with the hairdryer lying on my stomach under my sweatshirt, flipping through TV channels. It was probably a strange sight considering the majority of my stuff was still crammed into cardboard boxes. I was aware that it was probably dangerous to keep the hairdryer going…but I didn't really care…I'm not one to look into the future.

If I was bound to burn up in a fiery ball of flames due to my stupidity, I'll never know, because once I heard the front door slam I quickly unplugged the blow-drier and placed it back in our bathroom.

"Craig!" My mother screeched, her shrill voice echoed though the house and hit my ear drums like metal spikes. I shuffled down the stairs just as Ruby shoved past me irritably. Her small middle finger was aimed vertically in my direction; I ignored the gesture and turned back to the raving lunatic making her way into the kitchen.

"What?" I mumbled, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"Do you have any change from that earlier money I left for you?" She growled. Mom was always pissed off after she got home from work; I guess that's what working in a small cubical does to you.

"Yeah, I actually didn't end up going out." I said, suddenly remembering the crumpled twenty that was never put to use.

"Good," she grumbled, "go out and buy some dinner for you and your sister." I could have told her that this would be futile, considering that Harbuck's is the only food joint in town, and I still don't have my license (yeah, I know, I should probably work on that). However, arguing with my mother when she's in a bitchy mood would be in vain. If I get my stubborn attitude from anyone—it's her.

"Alright," I yawned, fixing my chullo so it concealed most of my messy black hair. "You want anything?" I asked.

"No." She spat, digging through her purse for her cell phone. "Go ask Ruby what she'd like." I groaned and threw my head back childishly. When mom was in one of her bitch-fits, it's ninety percent likely that Ruby was the same way…women.

"Rubes!" I screamed from the base of the stair case.

"What?" She called from the recesses of her tween haven.

"What do you want from Harbuck's!"

"I don't want Harbuck's!"

"No one gives a shit! It's either Harbuck's, or you starve tonight!" We have such a loving relationship. Ruby was quiet for a moment as she contemplated what to get.

"Just get me a muffin or something! Oh, and a hot chocolate!" Good, nice and simple.

The sun was already beginning to set as I walked outside. The streets were silent and abandoned, covered in a honey golden light that fell from the pink sky. I could see my breath puff out of my mouth as I began walking. Traveling down my neighborhood road was somewhat nostalgic. I remember playing tag with Clyde and Token in the middle of the road, or maybe a small game of football. I remember when Stan and his gang banged on my door all those years ago to make a Peruvian flute band. When I passed the bus stop, I remembered that crazy driver with the bird in her hair. It was nice, walking through South Park when no crazy shit was going on around you. Quiet. Peaceful. Boring.

I soon turned onto Main Street, where most of South Park's shops and offices were located. I could see the dingy Harbuck's OPEN sign flickering in the growing darkness. I knew the Tweaks owned that shop after their own coffee house shut down. For some reason, a small part of me secretly hoped that I'd find the spastic blonde inside, which was weird. I never really looked forward to seeing anyone before.

I brushed the feeling aside as I opened the heavy glass door, a small bell jingled to indicate my arrival. It looked like any other café, large plush chairs sorted in the corner near the windowed front wall. Small booths lined the wall, and equally small tables littered the remaining surface area of the hardwood floors. There was a wooden counter toward the back of the store with a chalk menu mounted behind it. I was surprised to see a certain dirty blonde standing behind the register.

Kenny.

It was strange seeing Kenny sans his orange parka. Instead, he had on a black polo shirt which was covered by a forest green apron that I assumed is the mandatory uniform. He really did grow into a good looking teenager. His messy blonde hair and flawless face are usually shadowed by his ratty hood. When the poor boy caught sight of me, I was given a cheeky Kenny McCormick smile.

"Hey Craig," He drawled as I sauntered up to the counter. "What brings you to Harbuck's tonight?"

"Ruby wants food." I shrugged, glancing at the pastries sitting in a glass display case. They all had complicated names and were decorated with intense frosting designs. I frowned. "Got any plain muffins?"

"We have chocolate chip." Kenny laughed, "Mr. Tweak just doesn't keep them in the display 'cause their lame." The blonde turned around and disappeared behind the counter as he crouched to receive—what I assumed—was the simple pastry.

"You know," I began, attempting to make small talk, "I never pictured you working here…or working at all really." I admitted. Kenny popped back up and frowned, placing the muffin on the table top.

"Aw, come on Craig, I'm not the insensitive horny bastard I used to be. Give me some credit."

"Maybe not insensitive, but you're probably still a horny son of a bitch." I smirked, sticking my hands in my pocket to retrieve my (mom's) twenty. Kenny snorted.

"Amen. Naw, this is a good job. The Tweaks are really flexible with work hours, and the pay's great."

"Does Tweek ever come around to help out or something?" The question escaped my lips before I really thought about it. I inwardly cursed myself, wondering why I was so obsessed with this kid. Kenny visibly stiffened as he worked the register; my curiosity flared. "Hey, do you know what's up with the…" I left the sentence hanging, vaguely pointing to my left forearm.

"You want anything else?" Kenny sighed; his blue eyes were glued to the wooden counter top. I suddenly remembered his same strange behavior at lunch earlier when the subject came up. The curiosity buzzed in my head like a swarm of bees, only able to be released if I got a straight answer.

"You know something don't you?" I whispered.

"Want anything else?" Kenny repeated, irritation nipping at his tone.

"A hot chocolate." I muttered impatiently, slapping the twenty on the table. Kenny began making the drink at once, relieved to be busy. "Come on," I pleaded, somewhat desperately, "you can tell me. I'm Tweek's friend," that was kind of a lie, "he won't mind if I knew." That was definitely a lie. Kenny was silent as he made the simple request, and still didn't utter a word once he finished. I hated it, I hated the fucking silence…it killed me.

Only when Kenny handed back my change did he speak.

"Some things," he murmured, "are better left unknown."

* * *

><p>It's funny how South Park works. I mean, I've been back in town for a little over a week and it already feels like I never left. Living in Denver for four years felt like a small vacation; and I realize this as I'm being driven to school for my second day at Park High. Token and Clyde are in the front seat bickering about girls or some shit while I simply listen and occasionally take a jab at the brunette's ego. Yep, a boring familiar routine has definitely started shoving its way into my life. Not that I minded; that's the way I liked it. Stable. Predictable. Balanced. Boring.<p>

"Craig, answer me." Clyde whined, his high fucking voice slicing through my thoughts like a blunt blade.

"What?" I asked, automatically flipping the bird at the back of his head.

"Who should we invite to your party?" He snipped. Clyde had about the maturity and emotional behavior of a thirteen-year-old girl. It was charming in a bizarre, faggy kind of way. I smirked to myself as Clyde slowly lost patience for a response.

"Fuck, I don't know. I don't know anyone." I shrugged, "Just have Token invite people." Token glanced back at me and presented an attractive smile.

"Hey," the brunette complained, "I wanted to invite people."

"No way," I scoffed, "I want people with some level of intelligence at _my_ party." Token chuckled as he turned onto the school's main road.

"Whatever." Clyde grumbled.

"When is this stupid thing anyway?" I asked, collecting my backpack once the car eased into the crowded parking lot.

"Saturday," Token said while picking out a decent parking space.

Saturday…I let that sit in my mind for a moment. Oh fuck—

"I'm going to Tweek's on Saturday."

The car suddenly came to an abrupt halt. I'm sure my face would have smashed into the back of the passenger seat if it wasn't for the fact that the car was going so damn slow.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled irritably, fixing my chullo.

"Dude," Clyde gawked, "you're going to _Twitch's_ house? That's, like, social suicide man. If anyone heard you say that—"

"Shut the fuck up Clyde," I growled, "I told you to stop calling him Twitch." The Mercedes slowly began its crawl through the parking lot once more.

"Oh come on Craig," Clyde huffed, "you're not even friends with him. Don't go blowing this off because of Twi—Tweek."

"Why do you even care?" I kicked the back of Clyde's seat (much to Token's dismay).

"Because your priority should be for your_ best_ friend, and not some spazzed fuck who you barely talked to in middle school."

"Oh my God Clyde, grow up." I barked, flipping off the brunette again.

"I just don't get why you're so obsessed with him. The questions at lunch…this…what are you, boning him?" That pissed me off, and a bubble of rage controlled my arms as I swung one of them in front of me and hit the back of Clyde's head; hard.

"Enough!" Token stopped the car and turned around to face me like an angry parent. "Craig, stop getting pissed at Clyde. You can't blame him for not knowing whatever it is you have with Tweek." My cheeks flushed a tiny bit at Token's statement. We had nothing. Why was it such a big deal if I was _nice_ to the blonde? "And Clyde," the dark boy said, turning in his seat to face the tearful teen, "stop being an ass-whole."

* * *

><p>I hate history. It's such a useless fucking subject. Teachers always try and bullshit you into learning it by whining, "we need to know our past so we can avoid making the same mistakes in the present". That's completely false; human beings are fucked up creatures that will always find ways to hurt each other, despite what we already know. Sure, we might not do it the same way, but it'd probably have the same devastating effect. If you ask me, schools should just stop history in middle school. It's just another class that's butchering my GPA.<p>

The worst part is that I already learned this shit last year at my old school, so it's not even like I'm learning anything new.

"So, to better understand the dynamics of the 1930s we're going to split into _assigned_," at that word the class gave a collective groan, "groups. Each group will get a research topic and will present material on the issue one week from tomorrow." My hands itched to flip that old hag the bird, but I resisted. I honestly didn't feel like going to councilor on my second day back. Our teacher pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and began rattling pairs that she had assigned. I was with Red; fantastic.

"Now, one member from your pair will come to the front to collect a rubric. First come, first serve with the topic choices." After a few hesitant seconds people rushed out of their seats to get something good. I stayed behind, slouched lazily in my seat. Red was also still planted in her seat in front of me.

She turned around to face me, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. "Go get us a rubric." She hissed. My eyes widened, somewhat taken aback. I always thought Red was shy and sweet—so I really wasn't expecting that. However, I recovered fast.

"You're closer." I countered.

"Ah Craig, you're so charming," she said sarcastically, "now be a man and get a woman her paper." She smirked. I could see our ragged history teacher peering over at us expectantly through her thick glasses. Actually, she was mainly staring at _me_.

Once again…women.

I huffed and stood up, shoving random kids out of my way, snatching the only rubric that was left: Family Dynamics in the 1930s.

Fuck history.

* * *

><p>"And then Red just ended up dumping most of the work on me."<p>

"W-well gee, Craig, that sounds awful." Butters muttered nervously, bumping his knuckles together anxiously. It was lunch period, and the two of us were making our way to the cafeteria. I needed someone to bitch at, and I spotted Butters in the rush of students. It was pretty lucky, actually, I can't imagine a better person to rant to than Butters.

"I know right?" I said, opening the doors to the lunch room. "It was completely unnecessary; I've never been mean to her."

"Maybe she just likes you." Butters inquired as we found our table and took a seat with the rest of the guys. I scoffed at the idea, because seriously? My first day of school was yesterday and I didn't even talk to her.

"Who likes Craig?" Kevin asked curiously, picking at the cafeteria slop sitting on his plastic tray.

"Red." Butters chirped. I felt a hand clap me on the back; it was Token, who was currently sitting beside me.

"Hey man, Red's pretty hot." He congratulated.

"Fuck her," I frowned, "we don't even know each other and she's a complete bitch." I stuffed a handful of Gold Fish into my mouth.

"You guys could get to know each other at your party on Saturday. Oh, that's right; you're bailing out on us." Clyde muttered; he was located on my other side. I spun to face the brunette irritably.

"Are you still hung up on that?" I spat.

"Maybe," Clyde shrugged childishly. The rest of the guys at our table weren't paying attention to our little argument. In the back of my mind I made an observation that Kenny wasn't sitting with us.

"God, if it upsets you _that_ much, I'll go. It's not like I'll be at Tweek's all fucking night. I don't get why it's such a big deal."

"It's a big deal because instead of spending time with your_ real_ friends, you're replacing us with a spazz."

"Oh my God Clyde, get the sand out of your vagina and get over yourself. I'm not _replacing _anybody."

"Well it seems like it."

"This is not how I wanted to spend my lunch."

"This isn't how I wanted catch up with my best friend."

"You're a child." I wasn't aware that our voices have been elevating significantly, and that all of the previous conversations at the table have ceased. All eyes were on us.

"At least I know who my friends are."

"When did you become such a dick?" I slammed my fist down on the table, gaining curious eyes from the surrounding students.

"The minute you started liking it!" Everything went silent.

Okay, that was fucking uncalled for.

I could have punched him, shoved him, or threw some food in his face. A few years ago, I probably would have. I was a violent little bastard who would jump into any fight he could find. But, I'm not like that anymore. Fights lead to too many problems, and I'm not one for confrontations. So, instead of doing all of those things, I simply stood up and left. Letting the fury burn though my body unsatisfied.

* * *

><p>Fucking Clyde. Since when does being nice to someone mean that you want to bone them? So I was going to Tweek's; big deal. He blew this whole thing out of proportion. I slammed my fist into the wall and immediately felt paper crinkle and rip under my hand. I pulled my arm back and watched as the pitiful piece of art work fell to the floor; defeated.<p>

Then I noticed that I was in the "special" wing of the school. I recalled Kyle's remark from yesterday.

_"No, he just spends all his time in the Special Ed part of school." _

And then I found myself glancing inside every classroom. They were different from the ones throughout the rest of the school. These rooms had large tables instead of desks, and they were significantly smaller, with colorful posters littering the walls. It was in the third classroom that I found Tweek.

The jittery blonde was sitting at one of the large tables reading a thick book. There was a silver thermos sitting next to him on top of a small notebook. It was the same notebook that he was carrying around with him yesterday, I noticed.

"Hey." I greeted from the doorway. I frowned at the tough flinch that racked through his body. Tweek's large green eyes snapped up from his book to meat mine. God damn he had huge eyes, they were wide like an owl's and frightened like a deer's. I walked over to his table and took a seat across from him. Tweek shuffled in his seat awkwardly, nodding at me in a wordless hello.

We sat awkwardly for a few minutes, until Tweek snatched his notebook from underneath his thermos and began scribbling in it. I watched him curiously. When Tweek finished, he looked it over quickly and slid the message across the table. It came to a slow halt right in front of me.

_What are you doing here? _

I shrugged, sliding the notebook back to him. "Maybe I felt like visiting you," I lied coolly…or maybe it wasn't a lie at all, "is something wrong with that?" Tweek hesitated before lifting up a hand.

_YES _

"Why?" I frowned, crossing my arms stubbornly. Tweek picked up his pencil and began to write again. The notebook slid across the table.

_You don't know me. _

I read the message twice before returning the notebook across the table. The scraping noise it made against the plastic table top was almost unbearable.

"Maybe I should get to know you then."

_NO_

"What if I want to?" I smirked as Tweek frowned, scribbling a message and, once again, sliding it over to me.

_You don't. _

"Yes I do."

_NO _

I huffed irritably as I passed the small book back to Tweek. "Your mom invited me over to your house on Saturday." The blonde stiffened, remembering. I smiled, despite myself. "So, if we're going to spend some time together, we might as well get to know each other." I reasoned. Tweek sent the notebook over a lot slower this time.

_You were actually going to go? _

"Of course." I was quiet as Tweek reached over the length of the table and snatched his paper back, writing on it quickly.

_About that… _

It read.

_…don't come. _

And then the bell rang.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are love c:<strong>


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